When We Were Lions
by Unread-Letters
Summary: A back-story into Arthur and Eames' lives. Focusing on how they met and the relationship that leads up to the tension in the film. Rated T for language. On hiatus.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot, that's all mine. Everything else belongs to Christopher Nolan, Emma Thomas, Legendary Pictures, Syncopy Films, Warner Bros. Pictures and anyone else involved. "When we were lions" belongs to the Gaslight Anthem, from their song "We Did It When We Were Young" on their album **_**American Slang.**_

**Author's Note: It's been a while but **_**Inception**_** sparked some imagination. I'm not too sure how long this will be but it's something I'm working with. It was inspired by the very obvious tension between Arthur and Eames. Arthur is a written a little out of character because I want to focus on his evolution into the character we see in the film. But if it's really bad and off key, please let me know. Questions, comments and criticisms are always appreciated. Thanks so much for reading.**

**When We Were Lions**

**Chapter One**

**By: UnreadLetters**

As soon as Arthur heard Eames' name fall from Cobb's lips he was forced to recall the first time they had met. Despite all of their time together, whenever Eames was mentioned, Arthur always thought back to their first meeting. That first meeting was so detrimental to everything but if Arthur knew then what would transpire, he would have never gone to that party.

It had to be almost three years ago, now. Probably more but Arthur couldn't be bothered with dates anymore. He had still been in training when they met. Old Miles had been teaching at Stanford then and had introduced Arthur to Cobb. Arthur had been training with Cobb a month at most when Mal's birthday came around.

Arthur had not expected to be invited. Sure, he had helped Cobb send out invitations and take RSVP calls but he really didn't know Cobb all that well and if he had to be honest, the thought of going to a party where he barely knew two people made his stomach turn. He was a little surprised when Cobb left the office that Friday telling Arthur he'd see him tomorrow. Arthur didn't have time to respond and Cobb certainly knew that Arthur rarely had plans on Saturday night. Deep down, Arthur felt honored by the casual invite; as if the two had been old friends, as if Arthur should have just assumed the invitation. So he ignored the way his heart pulsed with anxiety and the clamminess of his palms and he went to Mal's party.

His most vivid memory of the evening is that he had no idea what to get Cobb's wife. He had never met her and only relied on Cobb's stories of her. Arthur opted, without imagination, for a bottle of wine that the man at the shop had recommended. A bland gift, but Cobb patted him on the back anyway and enthusiastically presented it to Mal during Arthur's introduction to her.

Cobb went to put Arthur's overcoat with the other guest's while Mal interlocked her arm with his and showed him around the room. He was introduced to several people and participated in a few conversations, mostly with Miles and occasionally Mal. However, as the party wound down Arthur was content to stand in the corner of the room and observe its occupants.

His eyes focused in on a man he had not been introduced to but who Mal had explained in passing; a solid sort of man with a rough British accent. He was swilling champagne in his glass and entertaining a group of women with some dazzling story. Arthur had learned that this man, Eames Mal had called him, was an old prep school friend of hers. His father had died the winter before and Eames was squandering his inheritance like all of the spoiled rogues before him. To Arthur he seemed brash and ill-mannered but Mal has spoken of him with such reverence that Arthur had observe him.

He found that he disliked Eames almost immediately. Arthur, from a blue collar city with hard-working, middle class parents, detested people likes Eames. Arthur who had some kind of job since junior high and who paid his own way through college and who still didn't have a car of his own didn't have patience for people like Eames. As far as Arthur was concerned, people like Eames didn't deserve any of the money they threw away.

Once Miles had left, Arthur's anxiety began to surface. Cobb and Mal were busy entertaining the other guests, so to keep his hands busy Arthur patrolled the room picking up empty glasses and abandoned plates. An old habit his mother had instilled in him as child that he had yet to lose. Cobb and Mal had hired servers but they had long since gone and Arthur was happy to clean up the remnants they had left behind. He was making his way to the kitchen, balancing three glasses and four plates when a rather large shadow crossed his path.

"Bring us another drink, will you, mate?" The smoky British accent requested before Arthur even had a chance to look up.

"Ahh…well…" His brown eyes met clear blue ones that were slowly turning from confident to confused. Eames took his eyes off Arthur and surveyed the room.

"Oh..bloody hell. They've all gone home, haven't they?" The question was more to himself then Arthur but Arthur answered anyway.

"At least an hour ago. I just thought I'd help Cobb and Mal." Arthur raised the plates and with a condescending smile, maneuvered his way past Eames.

"Honest mistake, right?" Eames followed Arthur into the kitchen and caught a plate that was slipping off of the stack in Arthur's hand. "I apologize. Bit embarrassing." He handed the plate to Arthur with a smile rising from the corner of his lips.

Arthur curtly nodded a thanks and went back to his task. Eames, never one to be ignored, persisted. "Are you a student of the professor's then?"

Arthur kept his back to the man but answered evenly. "I was. I work with Cobb now."

"Oh do you? Interesting line of work. I dabble from time to time."

"That's fantastic." Arthur's sarcasm was not lost on either.

"Right…well…shouldn't have bothered. Best of luck." Eames was almost out of the kitchen when Arthur responded.

"What do you mean by 'best of luck'?" Eames turned around to see that Arthur was completely facing him, drying his hands on a tea towel but never breaking their eye contact.

"It's a dangerous business, that's all. Not for everyone." Eames shrugged his shoulders and made to turned again just as Mal walked up behind.

"Arthur! I see you met Eames. I was hoping you two would talk." She placed a thin arm around Eames shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "You both could learn a lot from each other, I think." She giggled to herself and hiccupped slightly. From the living room, someone called her name. She removed her arm from Eames' shoulders and patted him lightly on the chest. "Be nice." She whispered before returning to the party.

The men shared a confused glance before Eames unceremoniously checked his watch and rambled about another engagement. Arthur nodded politely and shook the hand Eames offered but was glad to be rid of him all the same.

Shortly after Eames' departure, Arthur said his goodbyes to Mal and Cobb and walked the lonely road back to his apartment. There was something about Eames, something that made Arthur uncomfortable and curious and vulnerable. His original dislike for Eames had been replaced by a strange fascination, as if there was something behind the years of proper schooling and money lined pockets that Arthur had to discover.


End file.
